Fruit and Fertility
by sub0chick
Summary: Or Why Stiles Should Learn to Lock His House. Derek/Stiles. Derek escapes to Stiles' house, but is he really escaping, or trying to find something instead.


**Title**: Fruit and Fertility

**Author**: jujukittychick

**Fandom**: Teen Wolf (series)

**Cast**: Derek/Stiles

**Prompt**: lj tamingthemuse #348- Papaya

**Warnings**: m/m, biting (not _the_ bite)

**Rating**: R

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Teen Wolf and am making no money; I am doing this for my own fun and entertainment. The fandom belongs to its respective creators and owners who *are* making money off them.

**Beta**: NONE! Any mistakes are my own

**Spoilers**: vaguely first and second season I think

**A/N**: I have only watched the first 4 eps of this, the very vague mentions of the other characters are being implied from what I've inferred from the show and read through various fanfics, be warned. That being said, it should be understood that this is also my first attempt at writing these guys…be kind. **This really kind of got away from me lol *blush*

**Summary**: Derek escapes to Stiles' house, but is he really escaping, or trying to find something instead

Stiles grabbed the last of the bags of groceries with his fingertips, wiggling the paper bag to the very edge of the jeep's seat so that he could get his arms wrapped around not only it, but the other two bags he already carried. So yeah, this probably wasn't the best way to go about carrying them, but seriously, who wants to make _two_ trips to the car to get stuff when you can totally manage to get everything in the house at once.

Getting to the door, he realized he had made one small error in judgment as the door was still locked. Wrinkling his nose, he looked down at the groceries in his arms and at the locked door in front of him, feeling his keys balled up in his jean pocket and just taunting him with their complete inability to open the door themselves as well as his complete lack of psychic powers to _make_ them open the door themselves. Why couldn't _he_ get any cool superpowers, but noooo, that was all Scott and he was like the least deserving of people to get them 'cause seriously, he was so unprepared for it. 'S all good though, he had this (wasn't like this hadn't happened to him ever since he was old enough to carry groceries into the house, but that was beside the point). Biting his bottom lip, he carefully leaned forward against the door, applying just the right amount of pressure to hold the collection of bags in place against his chest without squishing any of the contents. Next, he wiggled his hand free from between the bag and door and down to his pants pocket while his upper arm continued to exert the proper amount of pressure against the bags. Fingertips snagging on the key ring, he felt along each key 'til he found the one with funny bump in the middle - and no, he totally didn't add a huge glob of super glue to the top of the key so he could identify it by feel only, it just happened to spill on it one day and he never cleaned it up – then used his other fingers to find the keyhole in the doorknob and maneuver the key into the hole since he couldn't actually see any of what he was doing with the bags in his way.

Feeling the lock turn over, he grinned and released the keys, he'd get them after he put everything up. Now was the tricky part though, he had to simultaneously turn the knob and grab the bags before the loss of pressure from the door opening sent them and their precious cargo crashing to the floor. It was a very tricky move; many cartons of eggs had been lost in the perfection of it over the years. Mentally counting down, muscles tensing and weight shifting, he began the sequence of events that would ultimately end with him setting his still full bags of groceries onto the kitchen counter without a single item being crushed or spilled, his leg kicking backwards as he made it safely through the door in order it to close it behind him. Humming to himself at another successful completion of grocery retrieval – ha! Who needed werewolf superpowers, not him - he began unloading the bags, mentally running through everything he'd need to make dinner that night as he put up some items and left others out. He had just grabbed the papaya out of the bag to set out for the tropical fruit salad he was planning on making when a gruff voice broke through the silence of the house.

"You shouldn't leave your keys in the door."

Stiles spun around, arm already swinging forward, fingers releasing their hold on the solid mass of the fruit only to see it fly through the air towards the one and only Derek Hale. Luckily for the fruit, Derek _did_ have werewolf superpowers and he caught it before it could collide with his hard head…or the wall behind him since Stiles knew he'd totally duck instead of letting it hit him. "Gah! What…Fuck! Derek, what the hell?!"

"Did you just throw a… papaya at me?" Derek glanced down at the fruit in his hand, his eyebrow arched menacingly…or questioningly, or maybe in amusement…Stiles couldn't always be sure, there were so many subtle nuances and really the man seriously needed to find some more expressions, but meanwhile…

"Dude, you totally startled me. I panicked. You should make some noise, or knock, you know, like polite people do, and not just walk right into a person's home uninvited. And why couldn't you just be a vampire so I could _not_ invite you in in the first place and then we wouldn't have to worry about this."

"Stiles, I keep telling you, there are no vampires." Derek managed to get out between grinding teeth.

"Yeah, well, how can you be sure? Up to a couple months ago, I didn't know there were werewolves. Maybe you just haven't met any yet." Stiles ignored the faint growling he could hear coming from the larger man and went back to unloading his groceries, also ignoring the increasing volume of said growl as he turned his back on the grumpy werewolf, he'd kind of gotten used to the whole sudden arrivals of the various members of the pack in his house and just learned to work around their lurking presence until they got to the point of their visit. Of course, that was assuming they actually _would_ get to the point of their visit; the others were so much more talkative. "So what's with the whole creeper thing this time? Do you need me to research something? I didn't think anything weird had happened recently? Oh, and speaking of weird, have you seen Scott? He's been acting kinda strange the past couple days."

Pausing in his preparations of the fruit salad as he realized he was missing one of the key ingredients, he turned back around to face Derek, the knife he'd been deftly wielding as he sliced and chopped the various fruits forgotten in his hand. "Derek?" Okay, even for the normally stoic werewolf, he was being unusually quiet and still, his gaze apparently trained on the hand holding the knife, fruit apparently forgotten in his own hand. Just as an experiment, Stiles moved the hand away from his body, grinning as Derek's gaze trailed right along with it, reminding Stiles too well of a dog following a hand holding a ball or treat. However, as Derek's eyes started to glow, Stiles started to get worried, debating on whether he should put away the potential weapon or not. "Derek? Why are you here? Is something wrong with the pack?"

The question seemed to bring Derek out of whatever fixation he'd had and brought the glowing gaze up to his face, not really an improvement in some ways, but at least there was some intelligence back in his eyes again. "The pack has been over at the house all weekend and the girls have… regulated to each other. They're all fertile right now. It's put all of our wolves on edge."

Stiles couldn't help the squeaky sound of his voice as what Derek said clicked. "Fertile? Like…ready to mate, fertile?" Yeah, he hadn't really been comfortable reading those particular sections of the information he'd found on werewolves and some of it he really wished he could just forget, especially once he started imagining his friends in some of the situations he'd read about and started getting turned on. And of course now his mind was totally going to the same sections, about how a mating frenzy could overtake a pack, about how the males would rut for hours on end with their chosen partners, regardless of who was around them. How the Alpha could outlast them all. He could just imagine Scott and Allison and Jackson and Lydia naked, fucking for all they're worth and what if Danny was there, Stiles totally knew that there was something between him and Jackson and wondered if the mating frenzy would make the two act on it. And what if Derek had stuck around, would he have been welcomed into one of the groups or would he have been alone on the sidelines, forced to get himself off, watching the others, muscles flexing, hand wrapped around his ….

Stiles swallowed hard, blushing as he realized he had a major hard-on and in front of Derek who was already semi-wolfed out, what with the glowing eyes, and was sure to smell the arousal leaking from him. Derek who was still staring at him. Derek who was suddenly _right in front of him_! Stiles tried to bite back the startled "eep" that slipped from him. His voice was unusually high as he looked up into the other man's glowing gaze. "Derek? Why are you here?"

Derek didn't answer him, instead dropping the papaya on the counter as an afterthought before grabbing Stiles by his hips and lifting him up onto the counter next to where he had been preparing the fruit, forcing himself between the smaller male's legs. A stubbled cheek dragged along the column of Stiles' neck followed by the warm, wet swipe of a tongue, dragging a startled gasp from him and causing his head to thump back against the cabinet behind him, exposing more of his throat to the creature in front of him. "D-Derek?" Stiles' hands flapped helplessly, unsure whether to try to push the werewolf away or hold on for what he could sense was still to come…and wasn't sure he wanted to stop.

Derek nuzzled against his neck, warm breath puffing against his skin and sending chills through him. "You smell good." Another swipe of the tongue and a lingering, open mouthed kiss to the thundering pulse in his neck was followed by a pleased rumbling growl that Stiles felt more than heard. "Taste good too."

Stiles whimpered. This should so not be happening, as good as it was feeling to have that big, hard body pressing against him and the licking and the biting and...right, needing to stop. "May-maybe you should go upstairs, you know, take a nice long _cold_ shower. You're really not going to like yourself later if you do this. I mean, this is me. You hate me, remember."

Derek nipped sharply at Stiles' shoulder with blunt human teeth before pulling back to glare at the teen with glowing eyes. "Shut up, Stiles." Derek returned to his treat, inhaling the sweetly spicy scent of the male under him before latching onto the pale skin above the rapidly beating pulse in his neck, sucking hard, tongue flicking over the spot repeatedly before biting carefully at the spot with still-human teeth, gently at first then with more pressure until Stiles was whining and moaning, hips bucking uncontrollably, nimble fingers finding their way into Derek's thick hair, gripping tight, apparently unsure whether to pull him closer or push him away.

"D-derek! Fuck! I…I can't…AH!" Stiles' body arched as Derek released the mouthful he'd been torturing with his teeth and tongue before latching onto it once again mere heartbeats later, leaving his body swinging from near tear-inducing pain to nearly painful pleasure and all he was doing was biting and sucking at his neck while he held his hips down. Stiles could feel his cock achingly hard, straining against his zipper as pre-cum leaked continuously from him, leaving his boxers wet and clinging to the over sensitized skin, just adding to the pleasurable torment his body was under. He didn't think he'd ever been so turned on in his entire life. His heart was racing, his breath coming in quick, harsh pants as he clung to Derek, helpless under his onslaught.

Derek reveled in the noises and stuttered words coming from the small teen who was usually talking non-stop. He reveled too in the smell of arousal that was pouring from the teen in waves, wrapping around him and urging him on, could sense the frantic need coming from the trembling body. Dragging Stiles' body to the edge of the counter, he rocked his hips forward, growling against the flesh in his mouth as their equally hard cocks ground against each other with the motion and sent Stiles bucking and writhing once more, helpless, needy whimpers falling from plump red lips. Knowing what the action had done the last time, he increased the pressure of his teeth until he was just short of breaking skin, Stiles' whines growing sharper, higher and frantic before suddenly releasing the tasty mouthful and licking over it as he rocked his hips forward once more.

"Derek!" Stiles' scream echoed through the quiet house as his body jerked and bucked, his cock pulsing painfully, trapped as it was inside his jeans, as cum shot from the sensitive organ over and over, drenching his boxers and soaking through the thick denim. Gasping and trembling, he collapsed forward bonelessly, head resting on Derek's broad shoulder as two strong arms wrapped around him pulling him close. Vaguely he became aware of a comforting growling rumble issuing from the chest under him, a large hand running soothingly up and down his back. That was the singular most intense orgasm he'd ever had. Of course, considering all his others had been self or dream induced, maybe that wasn't saying much. Gathering his strength, he leaned back slightly, just enough to get a look at the…yep…completely smug look on the werewolf's face.

Derek looked down at the still trembling form in his arms, the flushed skin, dilated eyes, the completely blissed-out look, not to mention the smell of the teen's completion and lingering traces of arousal coupled with the bright purple mark he had left on the pale skin of the teen's neck. _He_ had caused that reaction. Was it any wonder he felt more than a little proud. Pushing the wolf back a little more he glanced at the clock. "When's your dad due back?"

Stiles tried to focus on Derek's words, still feeling slightly fuzzy after his powerful orgasm. Looking at the clock, he realized it wasn't even noon yet and his dad wasn't due back 'til eight at the earliest. Factoring in cleanup and cooking time later, that left seven hours. Looking back up into glowing eyes, feeling the still hard length pressed against his hip, he couldn't help the helpless whimper that slipped from him – a lot could be done in seven hours. "Eight…you have seven hours."

An entirely wolfish grin tilted Derek's lips. "Good, we're going to need them."

Stiles simply hung on tight as Derek picked him up and slung him over his shoulder, one broad hand kneading the mounds of his ass as he climbed the stairs to Stiles' bedroom. Maybe he'd just order pizza tonight instead.


End file.
